Jealousy
by celeria
Summary: "They're partners, they're cops, they're professionals. They each get their turns at glory and at drudgery, and she hopes that behind her partner's envious eyes, he knows that too." Elliot's jealous, and Olivia knows it. Set during season 4, episode 12


My first SVU fanfic. I was watching the rerun of S4E12 tonight, "Risk" (the one where the baby dies from drinking formula laced with cocaine, and they crack a drug cartel) and this stuck me. Rated PG-13, simply for the nature of the show. Gen, no pairing. Olivia, Elliot, and jealousy.

* * *

She can feel Elliot's eyes on her as Cragen tells her to grab her coat – and she does, of course, when your captain gives you an order you do what he says – and heads out of the squad room. She wishes Elliot wouldn't look at her that way, or rather, _not_ look at her that way, back turned, broad shoulders hunched, as if by having his ass to her face, she won't notice that he's sneaking covert, jealous glances in her direction. Well, she's sorry, but there is a time and a place for jealousy, and this is certainly _not_ it. What, he thinks she's the lucky one, charging out there on her noble black steed, to prevent the deaths of more men and women and babies? Hardly.

She would have followed him today – would have, and probably should have, but she wasn't armed, and she wasn't sure if Kendall had anyone covering him in the bushes, ready to shoot an unarmed undercover cop. Ten years ago she would have covered Elliot's back without a second thought, but she's seen too much and lived too much, she's been on the job too long, been shoved and hit and yelled at and shot and battered too many times to take those kinds of risks. If their roles were reversed, _she_ certainly wouldn't have expected him to come chasing after her without strapping into a Kevlar first. He knows that. Doesn't he?

He _should_ know that, but she can feel his resentment, the edge of bitterness in his words when she tells him that they rounded up every member of the drug cartel and he replies, "Good job," in a voice that's too thin, too sharp to be genuine. But – he's not jealous, is he? Surely he knows that she's taken some falls too, she's been slammed behind a desk, and God knows Cragen has come down hard on her before. In fact, after the Ashley Black case, Liv was stuck pushing paperwork for God knows how many weeks, she's lost count. She doesn't resent it. She knows it's fair, that it comes with the job, the badge, the territory.

She suspects sometimes that Kathy doesn't quite _get_ it, which makes sense, of course – after all, you can't ask anyone else to really understand what happens inside the four walls of the precinct, because other people have this wonderfully idealized version of a cop's work, mostly from the movies and TV. Sometimes, at the dinners and dances that they're all required to attend, mostly for politically reasons, she runs into Kathy, and they chat and talk about everything except work. And then Olivia's pager beeps, or her cell phone rings, and she has to politely excuse herself back to her work, and in those moments she sees that Kathy understands the way a cop's wife understands. Close, but not quite, and there is that little lining of jealousy, because Kathy would _like_ to understand. She loves Elliot, she's married to him, and she would like to share his entire world – but she _can't_, and it's always there between them, her and Olivia.

More times than not, at those same dinner-dances, she and Elliot end up sneaking off to the bar and downing something hard and strong for an hour or two, and laughing together, because after all, dinner-dances are not reflective of a cop's life, and they're the ones who know what the life really is. So do Munch and Fin and Cragen, Jeffries and – it leaves a bad taste in her brain to remember, but – Brian Cassidy, and even Alex Cabot, but Elliot's different, because he's her partner, and he knows what she knows. Height and weight and family members aside, they're equals, and what they don't share, they understand.

They're partners, they're cops, they're professionals. They each get their turns at glory and at drudgery, the accusations and the two-week suspensions without pay, and she hopes that behind her partner's envious eyes, he knows that too. His "Good morning," the tenuous smile, the bagel with cream cheese and lox that Kathy shoved in his lunch bag (he never has the heart to tell her that he hates lox, Olivia knows this) sitting on her desk – it's over, and they understand again.

_finis_


End file.
